


The Gathering of the Clans

by wargandproud



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3514001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargandproud/pseuds/wargandproud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-game Lavellan attends the Arlathvenn- past Solas/ Lavellan</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gathering of the Clans

As she squinted her eyes against the light of a thousand campfires, Lavellan marvelled at how she had never seen so many elves in one place. The air hung heavy with the smell of cooking meat, and drums pounded from a dozen different directions, each adding their thrum to the cacophony.

She had been to one Arlathvenn before, shortly after being made Keeper Deshanna’s First. But it was nothing on the scale of this, usually they dared not meet in such large numbers lest they draw the wrath of the Templars. But there weren’t any Templars, not any more. The Dalish usually kept to themselves, but everywhere she saw people from all different clans, talking, sharing stories, their children playing together. Something had changed. Good. It would make her task easier.

The night was cool and she shivered in her light armour. She no longer wore the armour of The Inquisition, leaving Skyhold with only what she brought to the conclave, her staff and a few days’ worth of food. She must not come before her people dressed as a foreign leader, like a doll the shemlen had dressed up and played at war with. No, she must be as one of them. When she spotted the fires on the horizon she had taken off her weathered old boots and cast them aside, wincing with each step as her soft feet grew accustomed to the earth again.

She was more notorious than she would have guessed, several more-than-cursory glances were sent her way. Some elves stood and stared in awe, others turned away from her, one old crone spat at her newly bare feet. She paid them no heed, she was headed for the largest campfire in the centre of the gathering, where she knew the Keepers would be sharing stories and trading artefacts.

Deshanna found her before she reached it.

“Let me pass Deshanna.” The girl she was when she left for the conclave would have cowed before the Keeper’s glare, but no more.

Deshanna shook her head. “Foolish child. You chose your allegiance when you became the head of a shemlen religion. You should not be here.”

Lavellan stood firm. “I wish to speak to the Keepers. You chose me as your First for a reason, you must care a little what I have to say.”

Deshanna laughed, her thin lips curled into a smirk. “I chose you as my First because you were the only other mage we had. I was prepared to accept your short-comings then, but now, I would rather our clan be ground into the dust than see you at its head.”

Lavellan did not doubt that was true. But she had come too far to back down now. “I said let me pass.”

“Are you going to explain what happened to your face, or did being delivered from The Fade by _blessed_ _Andraste herself_ cause your vallaslin to disappear as well as flattening your ears?”

In one smooth motion Lavellan drew her staff. That seemed to take Deshanna by surprise, she drew back and her smirk was wiped away. Oddly she heard Vivienne’s voice in her head correcting her technique.

_-By the Maker, stand up straight, the Inquisitor can’t be seen slouching like a sullen teenager. And don’t grip your staff so tight._

“Let me pass. Do not make me ask again.”

Deshanna could be a fool but she knew when she was outmatched. “Fine,” she yielded. The Keeper was a skilled mage but Lavellan was young and strong, and Deshanna had made a point of teaching her every spell she had ever learned. She had no tricks to pull. “Good luck, _Inquisitor_.”

Lavellan nodded, her face pulled into a tight smile. As she strode forward to the circle, attempting to look like she deserved to be there, her mind buzzed with uncertainty. Perhaps she would be laughed out of the gathering. Perhaps they would have her executed. Perhaps this was all a trick and Solas would be in the centre calling them all idiots, rolling his eyes at every mispronounced word.

The Keepers were sitting on logs around a campfire, larger than all the rest. Keeper Mael appeared to be regailing them with the story of how he single handedly drove away a group of Tevinter slavers with one frost spell. He had told the same story last time, although appeared to have added a griffon and several rage demons since his last telling. “And so I-“ he continued to rasp, arms gesticulating wildly, until he saw Lavellan standing there, “I-wait, who are you?”

The other Keepers turned to stare, and Lavellan’s conviction threatened to leave her. This was ridiculous, she had commanded the attention of a whole army, she had nothing to fear from a group of ageing elves. Yet here she was, her throat as dry as a bone with nothing to say.

They were still staring.

“I am the First to Clan Lavellan,” she tried to project when her voice finally found her again. “Formerly the leader of the Inquisition of Orlais. I have come a long way and wish to be granted an audience.”

She paused a moment to let the wave of whispers wash over the circle. Several clansmen had gathered and were standing behind the seated Keepers, their nosiness getting the better of them. Deshanna stood well back, a look of grim amusement on her face.

She heard Dorian’s voice in her head.

_-Oh come on, you’re better than this pack of poorly dressed vultures. Look, that one’s drooling._

It was true. Keeper Saris’s head had fallen on to her chest and a thin line of spittle dripped from her lips. Their mages were so few that anyone made Keeper had to continue long past the point of usefulness.

An old man near the back raised a hand to call for silence. “Inquisitor Lavellan visited my clan in The Exalted Plains and did a great many good deeds for us. I wish to hear what she has to say.” _Keeper Hawen_. She would have liked to have spent more time with that clan but had to drag Solas away before he embarrassed her.

She nodded at him. “I have a proposition to place before the Arlathvenn.”

He nodded back. “Then speak.”

She took a breath and steeled her nerves. Despite her time in The Inquisition she was terrible at speeches.

“In my travels I have learned a great many things about our people and our history. One thing I know for certain is this, our way of life is coming to an end.”

“How can you claim to be one of the people with a face as bare as a child’s?!” Keeper Alran called out, creating another spurt of murmurs.

“Let her speak!” a hunter called from the crowd gathering clansmen, which was growing blessedly larger as word spread of this intruder in their midst. At least they weren’t laughing at her.

_-Creators this might actually work._

She called to the gathered elves, speaking above the heads of the Keepers.

“Lethallin. I have been to Halamshiral and seen the decadence they enjoy on the bones of our ancestors, while our kind are slaves to their every whim. For too long have we skulked in the forests at the edge of the earth, too frightened to use the gifts _our creators_ granted us, and that the shemlen stole from us and twisted to their own ends.”

“Their thievery has nearly brought Thedas to its knees.” She pointed to the sky behind her, the scar left by the breach a dark green blot against the stars “We all know what happens when they are presented with what is rightfully ours. The orb used to open the breach was elven, used by a Tevinter magister. They took an artefact of _our very gods_ and used it to nearly destroy the world”

Keeper Lanari sat to her left, her arms folded and eyebrows raised. “So what do you propose?” she asked, looking unconvinced.

“We unify. Under one banner. One army. We go to the Dales and reclaim the homeland they stole from us. We build, we farm, we train our mages with pride instead of hiding them away yet expecting them to lead. And if we are opposed we answer with iron bark and steel.”

Lanari scoffed. “We do not have the numbers.”

“We don’t. But the city elves are many and they have been given a taste of freedom by the elven ambassador in Halamshiral. Send out a call, to every alienage, every slum. We will end this suffering the shemlen have brought upon us. We will be one people again, not separated by injustices, each believing we are the worst off.”

“And who will lead this elven army? You?” Someone called, too far away to see.

“If I am the most capable, yes.”

To her right Keeper Senni spat, “And what then, after we have the flat ears and some land in the Dales, what happens when the Chantry sends another exalted march, or the Tevinter magisters come to annihilate us? You are a fool da’len.”

“The Chantry is weakened. The Templars are no more, and the new Divine has made it clear she believes in accepting all races. She cannot seek to wipe one from the face of Thedas so soon after coming into power.”

“And what of Tevinter?” A clansmen called from the crowd, which was too large to count from where she was standing.

Shaking her head vehemently, she called, “Tevinter will not have a chance to respond.”

She felt a heat build from her stomach, this was all working perfectly. “We will reclaim our enslaved peoples. Not just those who were taken from the edges of our clans, all of them, even those who have never heard a word of elven in their lives.”

People were cheering now, the young and the vibrant were standing and shouting their approval, while the aged sat on their little logs and looked incredulous. It did not matter. She had them. The Keepers could be removed if necessary, they were no longer needed. _She had them_. It was all possible. What their people had dreamed of for centuries could, no, _would_ come to pass. She would see it. She would make it happen.

Keeper Hawen raised a hand for silence again. “How?” he asked.

_See, I didn’t need you at all Solas. We Dalish can fight our own battles, vallaslin and all. We will make a new kingdom, instead of pining for the old one forevermore._

She laughed. “Simple. We march on Tevinter.”

Much of this night would be forgotten. Lavellan would get very drunk later, as elves from what seemed like every single clan demanded she drink with them.

But she would remember the look on Keeper Deshanna's face as long as she lived. 


End file.
